” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. I should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it hadn't been for him. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. ‘Not entirely English then. He was extremely loyal to you.
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